It started with the smell of rain.
Not the kind that drenched you instantly—but the soft, electric scent of a storm rolling in. It clung to Maria's skin as she stood at the edge of the alley, memory pressing against her like a tidal wave she could no longer hold back.
She'd avoided this place for a reason.
But tonight, she had returned.
Not just in body—but in mind.
Because for the first time since her rebirth, she was ready to remember how she died.
---
The alley behind Ross Global had always been a shortcut. A side exit for late-night events, private meetings, or quiet disappearances.
That night, Maria had been on her way to meet Ian.
At least… she thought she was.
She remembered the message clearly now.
> "Urgent. Meet me out back. Don't tell anyone. — I"
But she hadn't known then that Ian never sent that message.
She had walked into a trap.
---
Maria closed her eyes and breathed in.
The memory came slowly, like a wound reopening under warm water.
She had been wearing a red dress. She remembered that now. Crimson silk, too tight at the ribs, but Ian had loved the color.
She had stepped into the alley, heels clicking softly, her phone in her hand.
"Ian?" she had whispered.
Silence.
Then—footsteps behind her.
She had turned.
And saw two figures.
One of them she still couldn't make out—just a shadow.
But the other…
Victor Renn.
Back then, she hadn't known his name. He had just been a man in black, wearing gloves and a calm expression.
"Who are you?" she had asked.
He had said nothing.
Only stepped closer.
Then the second figure spoke, distorted, low.
> "You should've known better, Maria."
And just before she could scream, Victor grabbed her.
Something sharp pressed against her neck.
Pain.
Darkness.
Falling.
---
Maria jolted back to the present, heart racing.
That voice.
The second person.
It hadn't been Ian.
But it had sounded familiar.
Too familiar.
She pulled out her phone and scrolled to the voice recording she'd found in Dana's files.
She played it again, isolating the unknown male voice:
> "And Ian?"
> "He's too loyal to the board…"
The voice matched the alley.
Same timbre. Same edge.
Maria's blood turned cold.
She whispered the name, barely believing it as it left her lips:
"Andrew… Blake."
Her father's oldest business partner.
A man who had always smiled kindly at her. Who had given her birthday cards. Who toasted her at her engagement party.
He was the one behind it.
He was the missing piece.
---
Maria stumbled back into her apartment, shaken.
She dug through her documents, pulling up the board directory for Ross Global. There he was.
Andrew Blake – Senior Advisor. Investor. Silent Partner.
He had been working with Dana all along.
And suddenly, it made sense—why Dana had access to both her father's company and Ross Global. Why the betrayal had been so complete.
Because it wasn't just personal.
It was profitable.
Maria grabbed her phone and dialed.
"Ian," she said the moment he answered. "We need to talk. Now. I know who else was there the night I died."
---
Ian arrived twenty minutes later, his face taut with concern.
Maria didn't waste time. She showed him the voice match. The financial ties. The emails referencing Blake's name in offshore transactions.
"I should've seen this," Ian muttered, jaw clenched. "He's been pushing me to dissolve the Sinclair contracts for months."
"Because they don't need me anymore," Maria said bitterly. "They thought I was dead."
Ian looked at her. "You were."
She swallowed. "Not anymore."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a folder. "I've been digging too. Here. Three weeks ago, Andrew Blake met with Victor Renn at a hotel Dana reserved under a shell name. Security footage's timestamp matches the same night you got that photo warning."
Maria flipped through the images. Two men, shaking hands. One in a trench coat. One older, gray at the temples.
Blake.
Victor.
"They're planning to do it again," Ian said quietly.
Maria's hands trembled. "Then we need to move. Now."
"Not yet," Ian said.
"What do you mean, not yet?!"
He met her eyes. "If we rush this, they'll disappear. We need undeniable proof. Not just to stop them—but to destroy them."
Maria exhaled, shaking.
"I know it's hard," he said, softer now. "But you came back for a reason. Let's make it count."
---
Later that night, Maria sat alone on the balcony.
The city glittered below her. Cold, distant.
She thought of her past self—naive, trusting, blind.
She wasn't that woman anymore.
Now she knew who her enemies were:
Dana. Victor. Blake.
But she also knew her strength.
She had died once.
She wasn't afraid of falling again.
---
Across the city, in an underground garage, Victor lit a cigarette and waited by a black car.
Andrew Blake stepped out of the shadows, adjusting his cufflinks.
"She's onto us," Blake said.
"I figured," Victor replied. "She's smarter than you gave her credit for."
Blake narrowed his eyes. "Handle it."
Victor took a drag and nodded. "Phase Three?"
Blake's lips curled.
"No.
Phase Four."